I could have a fairytale
by peanutbutterlover101
Summary: Pure bloods aren’t supposed to feel any emotions, least of all happiness. That was Dromeda’s mistake, her happiness and yet that created her melancholy end to her life.


**I Could Have a Fairytale**

Pure bloods aren't supposed to feel _any_ emotions, least of all happiness. That was Dromeda's mistake, her happiness and yet that created her melancholy end to her life.

**Okay, hey there my readers! Glad you are reading this story!! If you have read my other stories then GREAT! If you have not well then I think you should. If I say that my stories are like this one, well then I would be lying. But I do think they are all just as good as this one, so if you like it read my other stories. They are: The Famous Potters, Miss. Invisible So please R&R all of them!!! Love you guys!**

**Disclaimer: I DON'T own Harry Potter! Wish I did but alas I do not, I just LOVE writing about it! Now I let you read!**

Once upon a time, fairytales lived and were reality: But they died. They are no more and now the world is filled with pain, cheating, and murder. This world could be a fairytale again, and everyone in it could be a fairytale prince or princess. But that would be bad, because people world be _happy again_.

Once upon a time, I had a husband, a daughter, and loving family. We all lived in a fairytale. But then war and greed killed our happiness. It went all down hill from there.

I could have a fairytale, if I lived in an alternate universe. I could fall in love with anyone I wanted too with out being judged, if I was not a pureblood with the last name _Black_. I could love plants the way I do, be sorted into Hufflepuff, be friends with anyone, and be good at anything, if my parents weren't death eaters. I could do so much more with my life, if my parents weren't Druella Black and Cygnus Black.

Ever since I came to Hogwarts and got sorted into Hufflepuff I have tried to get my parents to love me.

But my effort was fickle. My parents when they found out I was sorted into Hufflepuff they sent me a Howler. It shrieked cutting words to the whole Great Hall and then exploded into daisy-shaped patterns of ash.

At the time I didn't understand at that time how my parents could justify distancing themselves from me because of something as unimportant as my school house, but I was so desperate to be loved that I thought maybe, if I made them proud, they wouldn't mind anymore.

It took me years to realize that the Howler wasn't really because I'd landed myself in Hufflepuff. It was because of _me_, because of my originality. Purebloods were all supposed to be the same.

After that, I stopped trying to get them to love me. I started trying to make myself and build up my own fairytale for me to live without my parents.

I broke all the pureblood rules. I made myself a best friend named Julie. Julie was a muggle born; I made sure my parents never found out.

But, the worst blood traitor thing I did was I fell in love with Ted Tonks, a Mudblood.

I did not know at the time, but that was my big mistake. Trying to build up and create my own fairytale. It did not work. They never do, it always turns out wrong.

Over the years I laughed a lot and lived even more. I ignored my parent and sisters scorn, and did not cry when they disowned me, because **I was happy**. They did not under stand what passion meant and what if felt like. They are the reason there are no more fairytales left in this world.

So, I ignored my parents scorn, and I went with my feelings. I ran away from home and married for love, not to keep the blood line of purebloods going, no I married Ted Tonks. He always made me smile. When the howlers of my parents arrived, I just smiled vanished them and laughed along with Ted. I lived in constant **bliss**. Purebloods aren't supposed to feel that happy.

When I got pregnant and gave birth to Ted's child, I was **elated**. Actually I was happy before and after I gave birth, during, well never mind. We named her Nymphadora. When the howlers came from my sisters, cursing me for ruining the blood line, I vanished them. Every signal one, and laughed along with my husband and bubble gum pink haired daughter as we imitated them.

At my daughters wedding I laughed when I saw how nervous Remus was pacing back in forth waiting for Dora to come out. I grinned as I saw my beautiful daughter being lead down the isle and laughed when I saw Remus' face. They were perfect together.

It was a small wedding, but it was dangerous times. When the preacher pronounced Remus and my daughter Dora man and wife I was **ecstatic**. My sisters and their cronies laughed in our faces, but I did not care. They had never felt this way. Pure bloods aren't supposed to feel _any_ emotions.

When my grandbaby was born and he looked just like his mother, I was tired, but proud and happy. When he changed his hair and eye color to purple and yellow, I laughed along with the delighted parents. I was **euphoric**, and would not let anyone touch my brand new grand baby and the new parents. We were laughed at again this time by You-know-who himself, but I just laughed right back, for even though he was trying to get rid of muggle borns and muggles alike, he would fail and they would still be happy. I felt sorry for him.

Those were my last happy times. When my husband died in battle I cried with my daughter for weeks. It was the death eaters turn to laugh, but I only felt sorry for them. That was how pure bloods were supposed to feel. I laughed no more after that, for my beloved husband was gone, gone forever and he was never coming back.

When my daughter and son-in-law died not soon after, I had no one left to cry with. I cried by my self for weeks. But there were no true purebloods to openly laugh in my face, I still felt sorry for them. After their funeral, I tried remembering the last time I laughed: I could not remember.

When Teddy got sorted into Hufflepuff, I sent him yellow flowers, the same ones I sent my very own daughter. He laughed at me and sent his own special flowers back. He charmed them lime green. I did not laugh, but I did smile a little.

At Teddy's wedding, his hair was bright-turquoise-blue, and his sparkly robes matched perfectly. The sight brought a faint smile to my face, especially when I saw little Vicky decked out in green and turquoise to match.

Well, they never _were_ ones for normality. They liked to make a statement, and they sure did.

I hadn't laughed in years, and I couldn't really remember what I was living for. I felt a vague sense of accomplishment at finally getting Victoire and Teddy together, but I hadn't felt _happiness_ in quite a while.

I still loved flowers.

~~~~~

A few days later Dromeda Tonks passed away in her sleep, with nothing left to live for, because she did not believe that she would ever see Ted again. Her reasoning for not believing that she would see Ted again when she died was that would be living with hope and passion and believing in fairytales. After all, purebloods were raised to not believe in that.

She died with nothing to look forward to only leaving behind the faint smell of roses still lingering in her house.

If you look at Dromeda's life from an optimist's point of view, she did live a fairytale. She helped defeat the most powerful wizard of all times. She had a loving husband and little girl.

The key word in these sentences is **had****. **

Dromeda believed if she had really truly lived and still live a fairytale, well she would have laughed though out her whole life. Dromeda has not laughed in 20 years; the closest she has gotten to laughing was a weak smile.

If fairytales can be sad and still be qualified as a fairytale, well then Dromeda's would go like this.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Dromeda Black. She loved flowers and grew up under the scorn of her parents, but she did not care. She married and had a loving husband and child. But then the husband and child went away to war and died. He broke his promise to always come home no matter what. Her husband and little girl left her with her grand child, Teddy Lupin. She was left all alone in this world with no one to love and with no one to love her except her grand child.

Dromeda had not laughed in years, fairytales may be happy and joyful, but hers is sad.

Once upon a time, there may have been such things as fairytales. Each person may have had their own special fairytale they got to live. But then reality was born. They are now no more. That's it.

**So how did you guys like it? Kind of depressing, I know, but I really enjoyed writing it. Hope you guys liked it! R&R!!!**


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